


Stop Sending Nudes

by Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Asexual Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Awkward Flirting, Awkward Sexual Situations, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mild Smut, Mind Games, Non Sex-Repulsed Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Nude Photos, Podfic Welcome, Romantic Comedy, Texting, Trans Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Trans Male Character, Virgin Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), What the fuck Al, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26904211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts/pseuds/Scorpius_Wears_Short_Skirts
Summary: Angel keeps recieving anonymous and faceless pictures of a less than innocent nature on his personal phone. He doesn't mind but also...why?
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 66
Kudos: 434





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was drawing and talking to a friend and then this shit happened. I have no excuse.

The hallway had been empty as Angel headed to his room, but that didn't stop a red clawed hand appearing from nowhere and latching onto Angel's sleeve. Instinctively, Angel's foot lifted to kick the unexpected intrusion of space, but the spider quickly stopped himself when he realized it was just Alastor.

"Quit fuckin' sneakin' up on me. I'm gonna neuter your stupid ass with a stiletto one of these days." Angel warned.

"I have a question for you, Angel, regarding your work." Alastor began, ignoring the threat but letting go now that he had the other's startled attention.

"Hell of a lead-in but okay." Angel answered, curious and turning so he could lean his back against the wall.

"A portion of your job centers on photography, yes?" Alastor continued.

"Yeah?" Angel replied, unsure of where the conversation was being steered.

"Why?" 

"Why… What?" Angel asked. "That's really open-ended buddy."

"Why the pictures? Bodies can't really be that interesting with only a visual." Alastor clarified. "I can understand getting to touch, I suppose. I certainly enjoy getting under people's skin in both the literal and figurative. But only the sight? Nothing to touch or listen to?"

"Some people like to look." Angel shrugged. "And personally I like bein' looked at so that's a win-win on picture days."

"Why?" Alastor asked again, and this time Angel knew exactly what he was asking.

"I like the attention!" Angel snickered. "I dunno. Somethin' about showin' off feels free to me. Get the camera set right and I kinda feel like art."

Alastor nodded, contemplative for a moment before he was back to his manic cheerful self. "Thank you, Angel. This was enlightening!" 

"Sure thing…" Angel said, watching Alastor quite literally disappear down the hallway.

Angel Dust had two hellphones. One for business, and one for personal use. Very few people had the number for the personal one; Just Cherri, Charlie, his siblings, and Nuggets's veterinarian. Not even Valentino had the number for his personal phone, just the business one. So it was very odd when his personal phone pinged in the middle of his breakfast, displaying an unknown number.

He opened it, surprised by the photograph of someone's ass. The picture was in black and white so Angel couldn't discern colors, but the person had mostly skin aside from the fur on a short tail, which covered whatever the person's genital situation was. Angel took a moment to appreciate the photo, then texted back.

**10:47am: Nice ass. Who is this?**

There was no answer, so Angel chalked it up to a wrong number that was too embarrassed to reply and forgot about it to get on with his day. Personal therapy session, a mockery of group therapy since the only other patients in the hotel were a dog and a fish, the latter of which didn't even bother to show up. After that was lunch and Angel retired to his room to get ready for work, which also turned out to be a pretty standard shift. All in all, a day so average that it was almost boring. 

He returned to the hotel and settled at the bar, asking Husk for a grasshopper and sipping it while scrolling through media on his phone. That was when a second photo from the unknown number pinged. He opened it and was treated to the still greyscale image of the stranger's lower stomach.

They were very thin, almost concerningly so but Hell had a wider range of body types so Angel had seen similar before. They were definitely humanoid, though, and his eye was drawn to the crests of their hipbones, forming a V that framed a line of hair leading down to where the bottom of the photo had cropped out the persons genitals. Mostly. Angel could just barely make out the edge of where the persons dick attached to their body. 

Angel snickered to himself. 

**1:02am: Tease. U got a name?**

No answer. But Angel didn't wait for one very long before he felt an arm curl around his top set of shoulders to yank him into a very awkward side-hug. It nearly pulled him right off of the stool.

"How nice to see you back before curfew, my friend!" A filtered voice cheered brightly, far too close to his ear.

Angel laughed and ducked out of the loose hold. "Ah, get offa me you weirdo. Gonna give a guy ideas." 

Alastor was quick to let him go, but was no less cheerful. "Now that would be a travesty!"

"I finished my sets early and snuck out while Val was busy with one of the girls." Angel shrugged, and tapped the stool next to his. "Have a sit, babe, I'll buy you a drink."

"You hardly ever even pay for your own." Husk grumbled. 

"Grasshopper, hm?" Alastor observed. "How fitting for a spider." 

Alastor sat down, indulging Angel's want for conversation with his talent for treating even the most mundane details of his day with the artful style of a natural storyteller. Angel was less eloquent in his speech and he knew better than to give out any of the more messy details but he still found it easy to talk with Alastor. They talked for a solid hour before Angel decided to turn in, needing a shower and a dusting before going to bed.

He woke up to yet another picture, still in monochrome and showing off the head of the person's dick peeking out of the waistband of a tight pair of boxers. It was a very nice outline, enough to show off without showing all but Angel was starting to get concerned.

**9:29am: Who r u???**

There was still no answer, not that Angel expected any different.

The pictures just kept coming. Always greyscale, always from the neck down, and never with any response. He now knew the person had spots on their back, a tail, and was mostly humanoid aside from those few details. The spots were the only truly distinctive markings, and the person had no identifying tattoos. He'd also seen way more of this person's dick than he was expecting from one person, but at least they were more artful about it than most dick pics ended up being. In a bid to figure out who the person was, Angel offered free service just for a name, but the person never sent more than pictures. It had been a few weeks now and Angel still didn't know.

It was driving Angel crazy. 

"Are you angry with the icebox or just terribly focused?" Alastor's voice broke through Angel's thoughts.

It made Angel realize that he had been glaring into the open freezer long enough for some of the frost within to melt and drip out onto the floor. He quickly grabbed something at random to pretend he'd just been looking for something, ending up with a foil-wrapped ice cream bar. Not his favorite, he prefered fruitier things to vanilla, but it would do for a mental alibi. 

"Just grabbin' a snack." 

"Of course." Alastor said, clearly not buying it but not calling it out either.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel knows. Alastor knows he knows.

Angel was in the lobby when Alastor appeared, tacking a short list onto the corkboard set low on the wall for Niffty. Angel glanced at it but seeing that it was in cursive he didn't bother trying to read it. He had enough trouble trying to get through regular print.

"What'cha sendin' her after?" Angel asked instead.

"Oh just a few trinkets. I would get them myself but when you have someone to run errands for you anyway why not let her?" Alastor dismissed, waving a hand theatrically. 

It was that hand that caught Angel's attention. He'd always assumed Alastor had leather gloves on, but at a more attentive look realized that Alastor's skin was just much darker on his hands than it was on his face. The mysterious selfie-sender had darker hands too, fading to a lighter tone up their forearms, but with the colorless filter they used there was no way to tell what color their claws were. 

It was a silly thought anyway. Alastor wouldn't, would he? Plenty of demons had secondary skin tones and Angel was fairly sure Alastor didn't even know how a hellphone was supposed to work, much less own one. Still, it was an intriguing thought. Because that would mean Alastor was sending dirty pictures to Angel of all people. It would also mean Alastor had white spots on his back and a fluffy little tail and Angel wasn't sure his heart could handle how cute that was. 

"You wouldn't happen to be dabblin' in photography lately, are you?" Angel asked, eyeing Alastor carefully.

"Not at all. Cameras take up far too much space." Alastor answered easily, not a single tell.

"You know there's cameras in phones now?" Angel prompted further. "They ain't bulky boxes anymore."

"I'm vaguely aware, though I don't see how a camera small enough to fit in those ridiculous things could capture much." Alastor laughed, as usual finding modern technology silly and inferior.

It was enough for Angel to rethink his suspicion. Of course it wasn't Alastor. Alastor could barely look at a dirty magazine without blowing out someone's eardrum. There was no way he would do anything so salacious.

Niffty buzzed through, taking the list with her on the way out. Angel was out by the time she got back but Alastor was still there to greet her, taking the covered bag she handed him and deliberately dropping a ribbon from within on the floor.

"Leave that there, my dear." He said as Niffty hurried to pick it up. She left it as told, however. "I'm playing a game."

"Okie dokie!" Niffty agreed. 

During work, Angel's phone pinged and he rolled his eyes. He reached over, effectively ruining the take but not caring much.

"Wasting film." The cameraman huffed.

"It's digital anyway." Angel reasoned, unlocking his phone to check the newest picture.

It was a full frontal of the person's torso, shoulders to knees. Their hands were clasped as if in prayer, wrapped loosely and tied in wide, shiny ribbon. There were also ribbons around their thighs and a very neat bow around the base of their dick. Still no color, but it was a very pretty image even without it. Angel laughed and put his phone back out of where he knew the video frame would be, not bothering to text. The person never texted back anyway.

"Are you done?" Angel's costar asked, irritated at the interruption.

"Nowhere near." Angel joked, but was back to focusing on his job. 

Arriving home to the hotel later, Angel did not miss the shiny red ribbon left on the floor of the lobby, seemingly deliberately in his path. He bent to pick it up, squinting at it for a moment as he easily remembered the picture from earlier. 

"Oh my fucking god." Angel muttered to himself, realizing that now there was no way the nudes could be coming from anyone but Alastor. "That son of a bitch."

But what was he supposed to do with that information? If he called Alastor out on it directly would the deer still deny it? Would he stop sending the pictures? Why send them to Angel? It felt like a delicate situation to be treading. Angel wondered if maybe this whole thing was meant to be an outlet for Alastor and that he was sending them to Angel because he trusted Angel to keep it discreet. It would be sweet if that were the case. 

Too sweet. 

Much more likely Alastor was fucking with him. Winding the ribbon through his fingers, Angel made his way purposefully to the room Alastor used as a personal office while he was at the hotel. He knocked, holding the ribbon up as Alastor opened the door.

"Drop somethin' stud?" Angel asked, his own smile widening into a grin that almost matched Alastor's.

"No?" Alastor answered, tilting his head as if unsure why Angel would think such a thing would belong to him. "Not everything red is mine, otherwise I would be ruler of Hell instead of Lucifer." 

Angel blinked, not sure what answer he expected but it hadn't been that. Determined to get an admission, he pulled out his phone and brought up the picture he had gotten while at work and turned it so Alastor could see, practically shoving it under Alastor's nose.

"You're really gonna still act like this ain't you?"

Alastor glanced at it but quickly averted his eyes. "Oh that could be anybody. I would appreciate if you kept your pornography to yourself."

Angel fumed, his fur bristling as he crossed the arms not holding his phone and the ribbon. He then sighed, letting the annoyance go with it. He knew it was Alastor. Alastor knew he knew. Arguing about it would only egg Alastor on into further antagonization and Angel enjoyed the pictures anyway. 

"Okay." Angel said finally. "My mistake. But you can't blame me, right? They got a twig figure just like you."

"I don't even have a hellphone." Alastor assured. "But I wish you luck in finding the identity of your immodest admirer!" He then shut the door before Angel could get another word in.

Angel quickly texted the number that the pictures kept coming from. 

**2:19am: admirer huh?**

"I can play this game too, motherfucker." Angel said with a grin, heading to his own room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel is still pretty sure he knows it's Alastor, but how?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops I made it longer. Also does anyone know how to put pictures in the chapters because I kinda want to illustrate this?

Angel had plenty of camera sets in the Studio, but he didn't want to go all the way back to his workplace, just to take pictures of himself on his phone. He could do that his next shift. Besides, the studio was for pleasing the general public. His own bedroom was personal.

In place of an absent tripod, Angel folded up a throw blanket so that it would prop up his phone. He took a moment to check the angle at which it would capture his bed, then set a repeating timer. He was sure to stay in frame as he sat back on his bed and slowly disrobed. Not the focus of the pictures he planned to take but if one out of ten looked good he wasn't about to waste the chance.

The picture he finally settled on sending was of him half reclined, stocking-clad legs apart with two fingers of a lower hand spreading his folds. The red ribbon from earlier was held in his grinning teeth, and there was a playful wink to his eyes. It happened to be one of the ones caught while he'd been undressing, his shirt loosely around his upper elbows but other than that and the stockings that hadn't come off anyway, he was entirely bare. And unlike Alastor, he saw no reason to hide his face. 

He sent it, and although Alastor had never once texted back, the response this time was immediate.

**3:15am: Tacky.**

Angel let out a surprised guffaw, more amused than offended. He read the text again to make sure he had read it correctly, as he sometimes mistook letters when reading, but no. He had it right. It just said 'Tacky.' and it felt as though it had been typed with the same indifferent tone some bastards typed 'k'.

Angel wondered briefly why exactly Alastor might call his effort tacky. Alastor had fallen into a more artsy style of exposing himself, so Angel decided he would try to cater to that. This in mind, he wound up buying quite a bit of washable paint the next time he was out. If Alastor wanted art he was going to get it. In full color.

The next picture that Alastor got from Angel was more thought out. He could tell Angel was outside somewhere judging by the sky, possibly up on the roof of a building. Instead of spread out like an offering as he had been in the first, he was more subdued. It was a photo taken from his side, hos legs crossed with one under him and the other stretched out comfortably. Two of his hands where in his lap with one rested passively on his chest and the other seemed to be adjusting his hair. If not for the clear planning, it could have passed for a candid snapdhot.

The thing that stood out was the bright colors. His natural pastel pink spots and stripes were joined with splatters of other colors, notably reds and blues and greens, as if someone had flicked the paint off of a brush at him. Alastor understood it was probably meant to emulate the visual of being covered in something else, but thankfully Angel had gone with art supplies rather than anyone's fluids. 

Under him was a few newspapers, set out to keep the ground under him from being stained. Alastor briefly wondered if Angel's fur would stain, but then that train of thought was quickly derailed as he zoomed into the picture to try reading the bit of newspaper that wasn't ruined with paint or covered by the spider's rear. And since Angel always replied to his photographs, he assumed it was proper etiquette to do the same. So he commented on what part of the paper he could read. 

**11:12am: Hitler was drawn and quartered for the hundreth time today. A good solid number. What fun!**

Angel's response only took a minute.

**11:13: The fuck?**

Alastor laughed and began to plan his next picture. 

"You gonna admit it's you yet?" Angel asked, finding Alastor in the kitchen on his off day.

"Yes, you caught me. This did belong to a demon." Alastor said cheerfully, gesturing to the counter where he had been busy wrapping meat to be frozen. 

Angel rolled his eyes. "The pictures, you ass!"

"The pictures?" Alastor made a show of wondering, then shook his head. "No I don't bother with pictures. I don't photograph well. Make cameras go all fuzzy."

"You do that shit on purpose and you know it." Angel snorted. 

Alastor's grin only widened. As if in response, Angel's phone pinged and he took it out to look. It was from the unknown number, which was odd because Alastor was in the room with him and had both hands occupied with the careful storage of his future meals. No phone in sight that could have belonged to Alastor. Angel _knew_ the text had to have come from Alastor, but Alastor hadn't moved. 

"Aren't you going to look at that?" Alastor asked, waving halfheartedly to where Angel's phone was in his lower hand but largely being ignored in favor of staring Alastor down.

He was looking for something. A twitch, a tell, but Alastor didn't have any. It was enough for Angel to doubt. If it was Alastor that was fine but if it was some stranger then that was a big problem and the possibility, though slim, was enough to start a spike of fear growing in his chest. Cherri knew better than to share his number and his siblings had no reason to do so, so that left one person who could have leaked it. He left the kitchen, heading to Charlie's office.

On the way he did open the text, curiosity getting the better of him.

It was still without color, and a fair bit darker than the others. The pose was similar to Angel's, almost mirroring and the model was likewise splattered in something. Most likely blood, given that they were wearing bones as jewelry. A ribcage, neatly broken in half loosely encased the person's torso. Fingerbones strung on twine made for a macabre necklace, and they held a femur in both hands idly. The face, for once, was not out of frame but still mostly covered by a deer-like skull, stark white over the darker skin of the person's chin and black-tipped hair.

Angel stopped in his tracks, shaking his head. If it wasn't Alastor it would have to be a damn near identical look-alike. And act-alike if the bones were real. It still left the question of how the picture was sent without Alastor doing so while right in plain view of Angel.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor finally sort of admits what he's been up to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of yall were right. It was the shadow doing the sending.

"Your number's on a file here but I haven't shown anybody!" Charlie insisted when Angel asked her. "Only me, Vaggie, and Alastor even have access to your file and it's confidential, I promise."

"I'm just coverin' all my bases." Angel sighed. 

"Did something happen?" Charlie asked, concerned.

"It's fine, I'm just tryin'a solve a puzzle." Angel waved her off and left her office. 

There would have been no leak. Charlie was too righteous, Vaggie wouldn't care enough to share it, and Alastor… Angel actually wasn't sure if Alastor would share his number or not past the fact that Alastor literally had nothing to gain by doing so. So there was now zero chance that it was a stranger. Which meant Alastor had to have some way of sending texts without having to physically move to do so. That was an ability Angel would expect from Velvet, or maybe Vox, not the damn Radio Demon. 

And then Angel heard something. Not quite a sound, more of the idea of sound itself. He turned just in time to see a black mass pass over the walls, pausing to form a face just to grin at him before it continued on its merry way. 

Angel could have kicked himself. "Of fuckin' course. Bet that damn thing's his cameraman too."

"Whose cameraman?" Alastor asked suddenly from behind the spider, and Angel's foot shot back of its own accord.

Alastor let out a pained and surprised bleat as Angel's heel whipped right into the soft part of his knee, his leg buckling. He laughed it off, enjoying the novelty of anyone landing a blow on him and the fact it had been in such a mundane way.

"Quit fuckin' sneakin' up on people!" Angel scolded, unapologetic. He wasn't about to go feeling sorry over a reflex he had warned Alastor about countless times by now. "Poppin' up outta nowhere, jack-in-the-box motherfucker…" He grumbled as he took a hold of Alastor's elbow to help him up. "You okay?"

"Just dandy!" 

"Yeah, yeah. Next time it'll be the balls." Angel warned. "Since I know you definitely got 'em."

Alastor rolled his eyes at that. "While I will not deny that I do, I hardly see how my anatomy is any of your business."

"I like how you say that when you've been showin' me your _whole_ business." Angel snarked back. 

Alastor chuckled, and Angel figure that was as close to an admission as he was going to get. And then Alastor actually did sort of admit to it.

"Well you did describe it as an artform."

It took a second for Angel to remember that conversation, but once he did he started laughing. His exact words were that it made him feel like art, but Alastor still had the right idea. Still, Angel thought Alastor was messing with him just for the fun of it, but he hadn't considered that Alastor had started this whole thing because of what Angel had said. 

Alastor cocked his head at the laughter, confused. He almost wondered if Angel was making fun of him in some way, and his hands clenched behind his back a moment. The possiblity hurt. He forced his grin wider to compensate and waited for Angel to calm.

"Well you got the art part down real good!" Angel said, and it was sincere enough that the hurt faded just as quickly as it had cropped up.

"Hardly a conversation for the hallway." Alastor said, making it known he would prefer to continue the conversation elsewhere.

"Yeah, sure." Angel agreed, and followed Alastor to his room-turned-office. 

There was no bed. No need for one since Alastor had his own home away from the hotel. Instead there was only a desk, a narrow table one might use to house a chessboard or puzzle, and one wall seemed dedicated to an altar or shrine of some sort with the skull from Alastor's latest photo sitting neatly as the centerpiece. Angel had loitered in the doorway to speak with Alastor occasionally but he had never come all the way inside before. 

Alastor shut the door behind him, locking it. Normally that would have bothered Angel, but it was a switch-lock with no key required. He doubted Alastor would try trapping him in such a way when there were easier options he hadn't bothered to use.

"You were right." Alastor said, continuing the conversation right where they had left it. As he spoke he removed his jacket and draped it over the back of one of his chairs before sitting in it. "There is something liberating about being seen. By someone trusted, at least." 

"Aw, you trust me?" Angel said, pushing away the threat of emotional intimacy with teasing. He took a seat as well, though turned it around to sit in it backward with his legs on either side of the backrest.

"Yes." Alastor answered easily, completely crashing through the already paper-thin wall between them. 

Angel looked away, studying the repeating design of the wallpaper. He wasn't sure how to respond to such sincerity without making himself out to be an asshole, so he kept his mouth shut. Alastor was likewise silent aside from his usual static and quiet station-switching. When Angel did look back he was surprised to see Alastor had unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and had started to undo the ones down the front as well.

"Uh, Al?" Angel asked, not bothering to try to hide the nervousness out of his voice. "The fuck are you doin'?"

"Trying something new." Alastor answered with a shrug, hands stilling over buttons but visibly starting to shake. "I've been showing off anyway and I thought why not do so in person?"

"Well damn…" Angel breathed, stunned. 

Alastor's smile faltered by a fraction. "Should I not?"

"Nah, go ahead!" Angel quickly assured. "Don't let me stop you."

Alastor perked up again easily, resuming his careful undressing. Angel couldn't tear his eyes away. Before he had gotten to his trousers, however, Alastor had a small request.

"Join me?"

Angel knew Alastor wasn't going to physically kill him anytime soon, but if he kept up with surprises like this Angel suspected his heart might just give out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get explorative.

Nudity was nothing new to Angel. He was used to seeing demons in varying states of undress, given his work. Even when not actively fornicating or even preparing for scenes many actors would casually lounge in the buff. Usually it didn't phase him. Bodies weren't inherently sexual unless the behavior of said bodies stated otherwise. 

And yet, even though they had been trading pictures, it was odd to see Alastor bare in person. Angel was so used to seeing nothing past Alastor's face and hands before. Even stranger, Angel actually felt a bit bashful about taking his own clothes off. Maybe it was because he didn't feel like he _had_ to. He knew Alastor wasn't going to push him, and that made all the difference.

"So…" Angel said, feeling the need to end the semi-silence. "What are we doin'?"

Alastor blinked, eyes softening a fraction. "Looking at each other." He answered, then chuckled. "I am not altogether sure. Personally I am just running with an impulse and seeing where it takes me."

"Your usual, huh?" Angel smirked, nerves forgotten. They were still just themselves, naked or not. 

Still, with all of that sepia-grey skin on display and within arms reach, Angel couldn't help but feel an urge to touch. And of course, remembering the pictures, he had a particular space he really wanted to explore. 

"Can I touch your back?" Angel asked, his mouth running ahead of his brain.

Alastor appeared amused but easily adjusted in his chair to turn. Angel scooted his own seat closer to inspect. On either side of his spine the grey gave way to a few neat rows of white spots. Uncaptured bt the photographs, there was a line of dark grey fur that blended and faded into the shade of his skin all the way from the black of his hair to the red of his tail. Given permission, Angel touched it and found it to be very fine, but also coarse and it instantly raised like hackles as soon as his fingers made contact. 

"I'm not used to anyone touching me. It's… annoying after too long." Alastor admitted.

Angel took his hand away. "You want me to stop?"

"No." Alastor shook his head, turning it enough to watch Angel and swiveling an ear back fully. "Just don't surprise me." 

"Gotcha…" Angel said quietly, making sure Alastor could see him move before he continued to trace the fur, then moved onto counting the spots. 

He had started with only his fingertips, but as Alastor seemed to grow less wary Angel found himself practically petting the deer whole-handedly. Alastor, to both of their surprise, actually began leaning into the other. Enough so that they eventually forsook the chairs to sit closer on the carpeted floor.

"Wanna see some weird shit?" Angel asked, bringing one of his hands around to Alastor's front and facing his palm upward.

"I suppose?" Alastor answered, taking hold of the hand curiously, and watching with fascination as the soft hairs on the spider's palm formed into hooks and hardened, like silk turning into rough velcro. Alastor brushed a thumb against it, feeling as Angel relaxed the hairs again. It was an interesting texture difference. "That must come in handy."

Angel snorted, catching the joke and leaning his face into Alastor's shoulder to hide the smile. "Yeah, it's how I climb." 

Alastor twisted a bit and turned to properly face Angel, knee-to-knee. He raised a hand to Angel's face, and the spider closed his eyes as claws ghosted over his cheek, just under his eyespots. They made their way to the side of his head, finding the edge of his ear before pathing back to his short muzzle until they got to his nose, both orifices hidden in his fur. 

"Pick your own nose, buster." Angel teased, leaning back so that Alastor didn't have the chance to accidentally prod a nostril.

"Well that answers how you can snort anything!"

"I've cut back." Angel protested, opening his eyes to mock-glare but unable to do more than simply smile as Alastor's hand rested on his cheek once more.

Alastor's smile had gone from its usual stark grin to a smaller, simpler, much subtler upturn to the corner of his mouth and Angel couldn't help but bring his own hand up to touch the edge of it. In response, Alastor's ears relaxed. His red eyes bored into pink and something in his chest caused him to visibly quiver. 

"Tell me I ain't misreadin' this..." Angel said quietly. "Cuz I really want to kiss you."

"I'd let you." Alastor allowed.

So Angel did, and Alastor responded as he did to most things; Enthusiasm and teeth. Clearly Alastor hadn't had much experience, if any at all, but to Angel it was an interesting change of pace. Certainly memorable, which for him was saying something. So caught up in the moment, he almost missed the heated flesh poking his leg.

"Oh…" Alastor murmured, having noticed the sudden interest of his cock starting to swell against Angel's thigh. 

"It's okay." Angel assured, lower hands finding rest at Alastor's hips.

"I haven't…" Alastor began, flustered.

"Do you want to?" Angel asked.

"I'm… I don't… I'm not sure." Alastor stammered, pulling away.

Angel let him go easily. "You can tell me no."

Alastor was silent for a moment, but the relief on his face was obvious. "You can touch me." He decided after a moment.

Laying back on the floor, he let Angel follow him down. The spider kissed him again, then moved to suck a mark into the other's clavicle as he palmed the other's balls. Alastor's breath hitched, and Angel paused to give Alastor a chance to push him away. He didn't want Alastor to feel trapped or put too much weight on him. All seemed fine though, so Angel adjusted to be more comfortable on his knees and three arms while the fourth hand moved to gently circle the stag's shaft.

Alastor shuddered, automatically reaching to grip Angel's shoulder and digging in his claws without fully meaning to. Angel asked him if he was alright, and he nodded, so Angel began to move his hand. Alastor's hand that wasn't holding onto the spider's shoulder grabbed onto Angel's wrist, not guiding or demanding, simply there. 

It was Angel who pulled away, only for a moment to drool into his hand since there wasn't any lube nearby but he needed to ease his stroking somehow. Alastor's precum joined shortly as the deer panted and whined, unable to keep from thrusting up into the spider's hand as it tightened and loosened around his shaft in a maddening pattern he couldn't quite follow. 

"There you go babe," Angel murmured praised into Alastor's ear. "Fuck my hand. Goddamn, you're beautiful." 

Alastor's hips stuttered and his grip on Angel's wrist only tightened as he came. Suddenly overwhelmed, he pushed the hand away, letting go to roll onto his side to rut into nothing and biting into his hand to try to muffle his whistle-ridden moans until he had fully finished. 

Angel was sure it was the hottest thing he'd ever witnessed. The scratches in his shoulder and wrist were well worth the show, even though it had been brief. He withdrew entirely, understanding Alastor may need the space after such a new experience, and sat about a foot away. To his surprise however, once he had caught his breath Alastor crawled right into his lap and fell limp like a ragdoll.

"Aren't you going to…?" Alastor asked, trailing off.

"Nah, I take forever." Angel dismissed, gingerly petting Alastor's hair and fixing it around his ears. He decided against admitting that he was definitely soaking the carpet. "Was a treat just seein' you."

Alastor hummed, and noted how Angel had him half-cradled over his folded legs in front of his altar. The soft, warm lighting between the lamp on the desk and the candles was pleasant and almost made Angel's white fur seem to glow. He couldn't help but think that this would make for a very nice picture. So, with Angel's amused permission, he summoned his shadow to retrieve the stolen hellphone he'd been using to take one.


End file.
